


Sentiment? Perish The Thought!

by Call_Me_J



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, literally just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 08:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14712818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Call_Me_J/pseuds/Call_Me_J
Summary: After a case, John & Sherlock get some rest.





	Sentiment? Perish The Thought!

The pair had been lying on the couch in their living room, exhausted from the case they had just finished. Sherlock was on his back, cradling a sleepy John in his arms. The two were intertwined, John’s fingers drawing through the detective’s curls.

“Do you know,” Sherlock rumbled quietly, sleep cloaking his voice. John stopped his hand before resuming, wanting to hear the detective. “I would never have imagined myself this happy, not without a 10 or 11.”

“Emotions, love?” John’s voice was teasing. “I thought you considered yourself above those pesky things.”

“Don’t be silly, John,” Sherlock huffed, exasperated. “I _am_ above them. It is simply that you are an exception.”

“Oh? Am I?” John knew Sherlock thought so but it never hurt to hear the words, especially as they rarely spoke of these matters.

“Of course, though I fear revealing this may inflate your ego far more than could be healthy.” John chuckled, the words odd from the generally arrogant detective’s mouth. “Regardless, you have always been the exception, and I rather doubt you shall ever cease to be so.”

“Aww, you’re making me blush.” John lightly slapped the detective’s chest before drawing his hand through the taller man’s curls again. They were too smooth and soft to not touch.

“I am not complimenting you,” Sherlock insisted. “Simply relaying the truth as I see it.” Sherlock’s voice was bland, so void of emotions that one could mistake it for sarcasm. But John knew him better.

“My God, Sherlock. And people say you aren’t romantic,” John sounded mocking but they both knew that the sentiment was true.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, even though John couldn’t see the action. It was the principle that mattered, not the delivery. “I’m not.” He argued. “It is simply that your previous relationships have been so lacking in that department that they make my blatant lack of emotions seem heartfelt.” Even though John liked to defend his girlfriends, they were all the dullest people Sherlock had ever had the misfortune to meet. Even Sarah, the only one who had been at all tolerable, couldn’t handle the dangers that John Watson couldn’t live without.

John pouted. “Are you saying you don’t actually love me?”

“No!” Sherlock knew John was teasing him, knew that the little blond loved to tease him. But he wanted no doubt in John’s mind about their relationship. “Of course not! I love you, though I am not certain if I am fond of these, these _sentiments_.”

“Well, I am. So you just keep holding on to those ‘resentful sentiments’, yeah?” John patted the detective’s head almost patronisingly, something that Sherlock would have protested to if he wasn’t as happy as he was.

Sherlock smiled. “Of course, John. Anything for you.”

“Oh my God, stop that!” John playfully slapped the other man’s arm where it lay on his stomach. “Stop being so bloody wonderful, you git! You’ll make me cry.”

“Have you grown overly sentimental in your old age, John? For shame. And to think some believe you to be the stronger of us two.”

“Oh please, you know you’d lose in a fight against me.”

“Only because I have no desire to harm your precious vessel.” Sherlock dropped a kiss on the blond’s head.

“Vessel?” John was mildly surprised. Sherlock had never referred to his body like that. “I thought that was just your body, not mine too.”

“My body is transport,” Sherlock explained. “Yours is a vessel, in order to carry the most wonderful brain ever known to mankind.”

“Really, my _mind_ is the most wonderful? Not my heart or even soul?”

“That’s absurd.” Sherlock scoffed. “The heart exists merely in order to transport oxygenated blood to the organs. The pulsating organ itself does not contribute much to the emotional state of any being. As for the other, well. There has never been substantial evidence in either direction, whether it be to prove or disprove the existence of souls.”

“What about soulmates? What’d you think about that?”

Sherlock looked thoughtful. “The existence of the perfect pair seems unlikely; how would this magical combination be determined? However, there must be some amount of truth to this odd term. How else would our lives in particular be determined? John, I had been an odd child to begin with, never quite certain of where I stood with others. That is an uncertainty that has not yet been eradicated, though it has certainly been greatly influenced by your presence. You are my equal match, the light to my darkness, the sun upon which my moon draws light from. Where I am chaos, you are the calm. Where I am the loud and obnoxious, you are the quiet and friendly. Where I am the genius, you. Well, you are the, largely theoretical, heart.”

Sherlock paused as he realised his partner had stayed largely silent.

“John?” He inquired hesitantly.

“You,” John’s voice was choked, presumably with emotion. “Are the most wonderful, thoughtful and stupid people to ever live.”

“And you have a talent for flattering whilst insulting.”

John smiled through his tears. “Thank you. I have a certain genius to be thankful for that.”

“You’re welcome.”

John sat up carefully, making sure not to injure the detective. He faced Sherlock who was still lying down. “But you’re wrong you know,” John said softly. “I’m not the heart to your brain. You have both in abundance. Your heart, fine, your emotions, are as brilliant as your memory,” John cupped Sherlock’s face tenderly, glaring into his eyes. “I hate that you don’t acknowledge it.”

Sherlock placed his own hands over the doctor’s. “I love that I don’t have to.”

John hid his face in the taller man’s chest. “Now look what you’ve done. You’ve made me cry, you stupid bugger.”

Sherlock chuckled and drew his partner even closer, dropping a kiss on the silky hair. “I love you too John.”

**Author's Note:**

> Another small fluff based one. I might write something big or *gasp* not fluffy but unlikely. Feel free to tell me how I can improve my writing in the comments, if you can be bothered.


End file.
